


What I See

by Angel_made_of_scars



Series: Medusa Complex [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, M/M, Super Powers AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 17:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17812412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: No one can look at him. Ever. It’s for their safety. But he... he can. How is that possible?





	What I See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Castielchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castielchester/gifts).



Dean has never considered himself lucky. Not one bit. As a baby, the nurse holding him, the nurse that cut his umbilical and made him open his eyes, turned to stone. His mother was rushed away while nurses standing by with hazmat suits, as per norm by law, by 2024, rushed to take him out of the statues hands... and they too fell victim.

It was another few minutes of baby’s wailing before someone connected the situation and covered his eyes with bandages. They took him to a sterile room and gave him the normal treatment, before returning him to his mother.

As an infant and toddler, he wore a dramatic and unrelenting brace that covered his head with a large helmet. He sat in a wheelchair that it attached to, and while it gave room for bone development, and growth, it did not give room for moving enough to get out of it. A simple motorcycle-like helmet would have been too dangerous. What if he slipped it off?

This was the normal for him, until he was a kid, and could understand that he would need to wear special goggles, and that if he took his goggles off, people would die. It terrified him. So much so that he had frequent nightmares, that he couldn’t even share with his parents, because he didn’t want them to come into his room and accidentally make eye contact. Even though he did wear his goggles to sleep.

More and more special kids had popped up over the years. It came in waves. In the old times, the eighteen hundreds, you may hear of one or two people every few years. Usually siblings. But by now it was commonplace.

Still, not many had enough power to kill. They had enough power to manipulate their water from the faucet to their glass. Or enough electricity running through their bodies to jump start a car, if that. Most weren’t even that strong. His brother had the electricity gene.

He wasn’t allowed to hug Sam until Sam was five. He could feed him, with the tray in between them. He could play with him, from a distance. Roll a ball or jingle plastic keys in front of him. But it was too dangerous to get too close. Sam could pull his goggles off. He remembered some of Sams first words with bitter feelings.

“Don’ tou! No tous!” Sam yelled enthusiastically. Don’t touch. Never touch. When he was allowed, Dean buried his head in Sams shoulder. So he couldn’t see his eyes.

He had three incidents in his life. One was on the playground. He was just a kid. He had to go to school. A bully kept threatening to take off his stupid looking goggles. He said Dean was faking. And Dean had to watch, horrified, as the kid ripped them off of his face and forced his eyes open, intending to shove sand in them. The statue got hauled away with sand and rocks still clasped in the fist.

After that he was homeschooled. Dean insisted Sam go to school like normal though. He wasn’t going to take that away from him. The second incident wasn’t much longer after high school started.

Sam dragged him to prom. He got the schools permission. And when Deans date ‘surprised’ him by yanking his goggles off so he could see her dress, right as he tried to shove her away, well, she fell. And shattered. He was at her families house. They immediately broke down into wailing, tears, and anger. They called the police.

When they took him in, they tested him to see if he could be prosecuted for murder. They took him to a lab, hooked him to a brain monitor and heart rate monitor, and made him open his eyes to look at small animals, as he begged for them to stop. He cried as each one turned to stone.

After unsuccessfully being able to control his “gift” and police determining that he couldn’t have stopped what happened, they put a note on his record and let him go. He moved into his apartment in the next few days. He blocked out the outside world.

His third incident was after a car crash. He wasn’t thinking, just speeding. Feeling fresh air and trying to leave his problems behind. He was dragged from the wreckage after he caught a dip in the side of the road and swerved, flying into a pole.

When he opened his eyes, the nurse that had been removing black plastic from his eyebrow, where his goggles had broken, was frozen. He had to sit still and try not to panic, breathing hard as he stared at the stone figure above him. He shut his eyes after the momentary shock passed and was able to tell them he needed bandages to cover his eyes as they worked.

As of the present, Sam was visiting his small apartment, as Dean could still see him through the thick, dark plastic, but Sam couldn’t see his eyes. Sam was laughing and making fun of a mug he had on the counter.

“Iron man? First of all, Captain America was better. And secondly, why do you have so much nerdy stuff around here?” Sam asked.

“Because man! I just like it! You cannot judge me Mr. I have law books, two different chemistry sets, and a telescope just on my dining room table. You video call me enough for me to know about that shit.” Dean said. Sam laughed, and nodded.

“Well, I guess I need some cooler stuff then.” Sam said. Dean stood up straighter, his eyebrows raised in complete surprise.

“Really? We could go to the shop-” Dean started.

“I’m ok with this.” Sam interrupted, immediately booking it for the door. Dean didn’t even realize what he meant until he was already half way down the apartment buildings stairs.

“Sam! Get the hell back here!” Dean yelled, chasing him. He chuckled a bit, until Sam ran straight out into the street. It wasn’t funny anymore. He couldn’t just go out there and risk... anything. He only went out for essentials. He even had groceries delivered and did his laundry at two in the morning when no one was around. Sam knew that.

“Give it back!” Dean yelled. Sam shrugged outside the glass door.

“Sorry, can’t hear you!” He laughed.

Dean growled and swung open the door. Sam took off and Dean booked it after him. He wasn’t used to exercise that wasn’t on a treadmill though. He was breathing hard, feeling the full heat of the sun in his skin, and the bitter whip of wind around him. It was winter, but the sun still burned so brightly for someone who didn’t go out and see it too often, even through dark goggles. All too soon, he was getting lightheaded. He couldn’t breathe through the cold. He stumbled.

He crashed into someone as he swayed sideways, even though he tried his damn hardest to not fall. He just wasn’t used to the loud noise, people, light, and wind. He grunted as his face hit the ground hard, and the other person did the same. But what horrified him was the crack he heard as he felt pain against his cheek and eye socket.

His goggles. His fucking goggles. They broke. Just the left eye, but it was open, completely. His cheek was burning from road burn scratches, and he was too stunned to do more than break down in tears. Then there were hands on him, and he tried to shove them away, but they were too fast.

“Are you alright? Let me help you up.”

Deans jaw hung open. This man was... looking at him. He was too stunned to do anything but stare for a moment. He was taking in his eyes and not hesitating, or turning to a grey, horrifying state. 

“Don’t look at me!” Dean yelled suddenly, blinking away the tears and shutting his eyes quickly. He heard people start to gather, and whisper, and he heard Sam yelled at them to get back. He must have come running back the second he heard commotion.

“Dean-”

“Fuck you!” Dean yelled, surprising both Sam and the people gathering.

“I deserve to have nice fucking things in my own apartment that’s going to be my life for the next fifty years, and you have to take something that’s important to try to lure me out! And look what fucking happened!” Dean screamed.

He couldn’t take it. He wasn’t even very angry, after the words left him. Just defeated as he felt tears fall into the goggles suction rings. He covered the hole in the plastic and shut his eyes, just in case.

“I’m so sorry, I- I ran into him. It was my fault. Everyone please, move along. We can take care of this.” The man said calmly. Dean just shook his head as Sam crouch down beside him, and he heard the man shuffling around, moving people away. 

“Is he ok? Sam?” Dean asked fearfully. He could feel his breath quickening, and his free hand instinctively going to his hair, covering the back of his head as a stress reliever.

“Sam is your name? I apologize. My name is Castiel. I’m not sure what’s happened. Is there anything I can do?” He asked.

“No, in fact, you need to go. Right now. You need to move before something happens.” Sam said, trying to usher him along as well. He grabbed Sams arm as it tried to push his shoulder. Sam blinked in surprise.

“Please. I’m a training nurse. I can help.” Castiel said. Sam seemed to calm, and before Dean could stop him, Castiel was crouching down and moving Deans hand away from his face. He wrestled him, but Castiel was stronger.

“You’re going to die!” Sam said bluntly. Cas sighed before placing a hand over Deans, where he was covering the broken goggles.

“Is there something in your eye?” He asked.

Dean shuddered as a wave of warmth fell over him, and he lowered his hand seemingly without hesitation. Sam had already turned his back. The man- Castiel. He just looked at him with a soft smile and pulled his hand away. 

“Dean, is it over?” Sam asked quietly.

“It’s alright. He’s- he can see me.” Dean said, his words almost coming out on their own. He felt like going to sleep. It was so warm, and their were colors all around Castiel, plants and trees blossoming, and-

“I’m going to withdraw. Take a few deep breaths.” Castiel said. Dean nodded. Like hell was he going to disobey the guy who could look into his venomous eyes and not cower and turn into rock.

He did what he had told him, breathing as the plants seemed to disintegrate, everything turning to nothing, and a light breeze sweeping away the dream before being replaced by reality once more, the cold wind sweeping him up and making him shiver.

“Cas, are you God?” Dean almost whispered. Castiel chuckled.

“No. Although at its root, many people believe our gift, in its basic form, is derived from the same energy.” Cas said soothingly.

“Castiel, how are you alive?” Sam spoke up. Dean looked him over and suddenly had the same question.

“Simple. I’m blind.”

* * *

“You know we look like dumbasses.” Dean remarked, earning a chuckle from Cas and a stern face from Sam.

They really did look kind of ridiculous.   
A blind man in a blue sweater and sunglasses on a cloudy day, leading a guy, by probing cane, who hadn’t shaved in a week, with one hand over his goggles, with another guy holding on to him to help with depth perception, who seemed completely normal, other than the iron man mug he was carrying.

“This door here, and into the elevator.” Dean said. Cas’ pole clicked against the frame and they stepped inside, out of the cold. Sam held his hand up in defeat and handed him the mug.

“Look... I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. I thought you might... have fun? Running? Let him fix up your face, alright? Please?” Sam asked. Dean sighed.

“It’s fine. I get it. Just don’t take my damn stuff. We can... I don’t know. See a movie. In the dark.” Dean said. Sam frowned.

“You know it’s ok to go out Dean. There are things you can do to... prevent this. You could cover your eyes with bandage like before?” Sam suggested. Dean saw him cringe after he said it, so he didn’t comment. He knew Sam was trying his best.

“Maybe. Call me when you’re out of the weather.” Dean said sternly, slapping his shoulder. He closed his eye and used that hand to do it, so at least Sam smiled.

“Alright. See you later. Good luck Castiel.” Sam said, exiting the building. Dean sighed and lead them into the elevator, pushing the fifth floor.

“You need to clean the scratches of debris, and then you need to shave. I will need to clean them again after to keep stray hair from growing, and get rid of germs.” Cas said. Dean just nodded.

“Are you alright?”

“No. I haven’t left this place in... at least a month. I get groceries delivered, I get bills paid through my phone. I don’t get mail. I wash clothes at ungodly hours so no one sees me, and clean maybe once or twice a month at best. Because no one ever comes over except my brother. Even my mom calls, and my dad sure as hell isn’t in the picture. Last I heard he had a kid with some lady who passed giving birth, ironically, because the kid can reanimate dead things. Just for a few minutes. To say goodbye properly or whatever. And I’m telling all this to the first person I’ve ever had direct eye contact with who I didn’t turn to stone. Why am I telling you all this?!” Dean shouted. The door dinged at their floor, and Dean lead Castiel out, while he just chuckled.

“Because you’re touching me.” Cas said, as Dean fished for his keys. Dean pulled his bare arms away from Cas’ hand.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked warily, finally digging them out of his back pocket. It locked him out after shutting. Dean had it installed special.

“I should explain in depth. But first we should get inside and get to your face.” Cas said. Dean just sighed and nodded. Whatever, he could kick the guy out after he had shaved or whatever. Or maybe he would leave after he-

“Ah. Garbage.” Cas said, smiling a bit and swinging his stick in front of him, hitting multiple soda and beer cans.

“Yeah, fuck. I told you. Hang on, I can-”

“It’s alright. I can manage.” Castiel said, walking straight through the garbage and around the perimeter of the room, finding each edge. Dean just stared awkwardly before he looked up again.

“Would you mind?” He asked.

“Mind what?”

“If I released a bee.”

“You know, I would prefer if you didn’t?” Dean said, dumbfounded at the man, who’s sunglasses were almost falling off from how he was tilting his head.

“It would help me map your apartment, then he would go out the window.” Castiel said. Dean threw his hand in the air, a gesture Castiel must have heard a lot, because he recognized it and chuckled.

“Go for it.” Dean said. Castiel dipped his head and made a fist, and as he opened it, a bumble bee crept from his fingers. He looked at it, and the bee looked straight at him, before flying through the apartment. Dean rolled his eyes under his goggles.

“So what now?” Dean asked.

“Go rinse your face well and shave. I can wait.” Castiel said. Dean sighed and nodded.

“Alright. There’s some microwave stuff in the freezer, and the tv remote is in that basket. Knock yourself out.” Dean said, pointing to the lone armchair and weaved basket sitting beside it on the floor.

He left the room, and time seemed to speed up. Not in the way that he felt like he was being manipulated by someone, but just in the way that his brain wasn’t processing. He had barely any thoughts. He just knew he was slowly sinking deeper into a spiral of depression and anxiety, wondering if he had finally cracked. If maybe he had killed that man, run back home, and couldn’t remember. He didn’t even realize he had shaved until he was staring at the mirror, pondering why he, himself, didn’t turn to stone, and a knock startled him.

“Are you alright?”

“Don’t! Hang on. I-”

“Dean, I can’t see you. Remember?” Castiel said calmly. Dean nodded before taking a deep breath.

“What if it was just a coincidence? Or- fuck. I don’t know Castiel.” Dean said. The door creaked open and Dean shut his eyes, but a quick touch to his arm make a wave of calm overtake him.

He blinked and suddenly he was staring at the man again, as flowers and green started to spread around him. He looked around in bewilderment, and wonder, as Castiel took off his sunglasses, and looked him dead in the eyes.

“I preferred when you called me Cas. It was... new. And endearing.” He said. Dean nodded and swallowed hard. Damn those eyes were blue.

“Ok. Cas.” He agreed.

“I can explain my powers if you’d like. But to do this and help you disinfect those scrapes properly I’ll need to use a lasting effect. You may feel overly calm. Like a high.” Cas said. Dean just nodded.

“Like I don’t already?” Dean said. Cas chuckled.

“It’s because you’ve never been under the influence of this power. You will get used to it.” Cas said.

Dean didn’t have time to question what that meant, before Cas was touching him with his other hand, pressing his fingers lightly to his temple. He withdrew completely and Dean saw, well, woods. Like a clearing. Like his bathroom things, his sink, and tub, and toilet, were in a garden. It was beautiful, sunny and warm, with vibrant colors surrounding them. He hadn’t seen color like it in his whole life. He always wore the goggles.

“What’s happening?” Dean asked. Cas lead him to his counter, and somehow he just knew to sit down on it, while Cas rummaged through the cabinet above the toilet, that was attached to- nothing. No walls.

“You understand most specials have power of the Greek varieties, or elementals. You have a Medusa power, Ive read about it. It’s only ever happened to three people before. I had no idea when I bumped into you that you were the one I had read about.”

“When did you read about me?” Dean asked. Cas dabbed the peroxide to his face, and it didn’t even burn.

“Years ago. In medical school. There was a story about you, as a child. Or who I assume to be you. They blurred the faces, and didn’t give names. But as I said, only three cases. One being the Medusa legend herself.”

“So what’s this?” Dean asked. He took a deep breath. Honeysuckle.

“I don’t have typical power range. I have Eden power. Have you heard of that?” Cas asked. Dean shook his head.

“You asked if I was God. It wasn’t far off, given what you were seeing, and the fact that I did not die. But I am sadly, not. When I was born, they dubbed me a child with biblical power, as opposed to Norse, Greek, elemental, or standard magic.” Cas said. Dean nodded along.

“I began with touch related power. I could conjure beautiful images only they could see. They being my father. He raised me alone. My mother thought the power was a bad omen, that I could become too powerful.” Cas said. A breeze went by that made Dean shiver, but it didn’t faze him.

“I began to grow stronger, sure enough. I gained the ability to control emotion, instilling a sense of calm over the person I touched, and being able to spread both through multiple people if they were touching. The downside was, I was blind. But when I realized I could conjure beings from this garden of Eden, I started to learn to see through them. Control their body as if it were my own without thinking about it. As was the bee, earlier. He showed me your apartment, and then left.” Cas said. Dean suddenly opened his mouth, gaping for a moment. Cas stopped moving against his cheek with the ointment he was rubbing in.

“Is that bee alive now?” Dean asked. Cas took a deep breath and nodded like he knew it was coming, although the cheerful garden around them remained the same.

“I can create small life, yes. Nothing drastic. I have two jobs. That of a doctor and stand in nurse, and that of a beekeeper. I help control the worlds population of bees and small insects, as they die out. It takes a lot of energy to do though. While this illusion that you see may feel real, and you could even takes a few leaves back into reality, we are still in your bathroom, and I have learned to easily control this. Making a life as small as an insect, takes a toll. Making five hundred of those can put me to sleep for a full day.” Cas said. He seemed to wait almost nervously for a response, before Dean nodded.

“What days do you normally sleep?” Dean asked. Cas chuckled.

“Sundays.”

“Shouldn’t you go to church if you have God power?” Dean asked. Cas smiled.

“Me and my father had a falling out from the churches, when they presumed I was an Antichrist. I believe it’s time to take you out of the trance now. You’re beginning to go to sleep.” Cas said. Dean shook his head. He couldn’t be.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“You look a bit like a toddler. We need to get you to a bed. I’m going to withdraw. You may feel a bit dizzy.” Cas said, touching his temple.

“Howc -an yous-” Dean slurred, reaching out to grab Cas’ shoulders.

“What was that?”

“How can you see me?”

“There’s a mosquito on my head. I am seeing through his eyes at the moment.” Cas smiles. Dean blinked and looked around. It was all normal again. But it was dark outside.

“Fuck, Cas. Does that mean you can see like a million of me?” Dean asked. Cas just smiled, before breaking into a yawn.

“No I cannot-”

“Stay.”

“What?” Cas asked.

“Stay tonight. It’s Saturday. You said you sleep through Sunday’s. And you did all this extra shit. You’re probably exhausted.” Dean said. He didn’t add that fuck, Cas could see him. He could sleep without his goggles for the night. Maybe he was a bit high.

“Where would I sleep?” Cas asked. Dean blanked.

“My bed. I sleep in the chair all the time.”

“That is not healthy for your back.”

“Stay.” Dean insisted. His head was spinning. Cas sighed and smiled.

“Alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part one of potentially sixteen parts! If I can get myself together and write more! And I want to! Because this could be the beginning of something amazing!
> 
> Like my first series, where I met you Castielchester! Happy birthday, and lets go for an even better year than ever!


End file.
